The Drow There and Nothing More (Goth Drow Book 3)

was visiting my mom last night, and the portal just shot out of the ground.”
Sir snorted and folded his arms but didn’t say a word.
“Was there any type of warning preceding this event?”
“An earthquake. And a bunch of flashing lights.”
“And was there any form of magic being cast before the new portal appeared?” The woman shook her head, searching for the words. “Any spells or incantations? Something that might have gone wrong?”
The halfling frowned. “I’m guessing you know this just like everything else, but I have to bring it up. You know who my mom is, right?”
“Yes, Ms. Summerlin. I’m aware of your familial connections.”
Cheyenne’s laugh was humorless and wry. “Bianca Summerlin would put her elbows on the table before she’d let someone get away with even saying the word ‘magic.’ There were no spells or incantations. We were in the middle of dinner, there was an earthquake, and then the huge black spikes of rock shot up out of the ground. As far as I know, it was random.”
“Of course.” The woman dipped her head and gestured toward Sir. “Major Carson has informed us that he’s sent a team of his top agents to your mother’s house in Henry County to monitor this new portal, which is, in essence, why this organization was founded. Did you see any individuals cross through that portal between the time it appeared and when our agents arrived on the property?”
“No.” Cheyenne licked her lips and met every pair of eyes staring right back at her. “But something else came through.”
Sir sat a little straighter in his chair.
“Such as?”
“I have no idea what to call them.” The halfling shrugged. “Just a bunch of dark shapes, really. Trying to come through and lashing out at anything that moved, I think. If you asked some of the O’gúleesh on the reservations, they’ll all tell you that those things only exist between the portals. That’s part of the crossing, I guess—getting past them.”
“Have you made the crossing yourself?”
“No.” Better leave it at that if she can smell a lie like she says. “But I fought one of those things coming out of the portal in my mom’s backyard last night. It shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“No, it should not.” The woman eyed the three nameless men at the table, and they seemed to come to some sort of unspoken decision by wiggling their eyebrows. “I think we have everything we need from you, Ms. Summerlin. I’m sure it goes without saying, but if you come across any more of those portals, please reach out to Major Carson to inform him. We need to keep a lid on this for as long as possible while we look into what’s happening.”
“Sure. I’ll keep him updated.”
The four officials stood from their chairs, and the woman grabbed the recorder to slip it into her pocket. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Summerlin. Major.”
Sir stood as well, pressing his fingertips on the table and nodding as he watched his superiors remove themselves quickly and calmly from the room. As soon as the doors closed behind them, he turned a blazing glare on Cheyenne. “You’ll keep me updated, huh?”
“Unless you don’t want me to.” The halfling didn’t bother to stand. “Were you trying to prove something with that?”
“Were you?” He took a sharp breath through his nose, his head quivering as he forced himself back under control. “I don’t buy any of your drow-telepathy bullshit for a second. But you see or hear or smell anything about another one of those portals, halfling, and I better be the first name in your head. Then we’ll all agree to keep pretending you’re not hiding L’zar in some halfling shoebox somewhere.”
Cheyenne frowned and dropped her head back against the chair. “Okay.”
He hissed and kicked the rolling desk chair. Then he had to pull it out of his way in order to get to the doors. “Get off my base.”
The man slammed his hand against one of the double doors and shoved it open before disappearing into the hall.
The halfling swiveled back and forth in the chair, then spun fully around to look at Sheila. “I think that went pretty well.”
The ogre woman blinked at the far wall, then flicked her gaze toward the half-drow slouching in the chair. A small smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “You’ve got some bargaining chip, halfling.”
“I know, right? It’s amazing I haven’t used it up yet.” Cheyenne pushed herself out of the chair and stuck her hands in her back pockets. “I can show myself out if you have somewhere else you need to be.”
“This was it,” Sheila replied, smirking. “I’ll hang out here for a few more minutes until Hurricane Sir blows over.”
With a snort, Cheyenne nodded and headed across the room. “Good idea. See ya.”
“Yep.”
The halfling pushed the doors open and slipped into the hall. It was just as quiet as when Sheila had led her down here, but two seconds later, something crashed against the wall in an office on her right, followed by Sir’s furious roar of, “Goddammit!”
Yep. Perfect time to get outta here.

Chapter Eight
When she made her way back through the pseudo-maze of the FRoE compound’s hallways and entered the lobby, Yurik was leaning against the short hall into the common room, his arms folded. “How’d it go?”
Cheyenne stopped and glanced at the front doors, then turned to look at the intensely muscular goblin with a shrug. “Better than I expected.”
“Where’s Sir?”
“Rampaging in his office, I think.”
Yurik looked over his shoulder and let out a sharp whistle. Bhandi and Tate appeared at the end of the hall behind him, their eyes showing a mix of amusement and caution.
“The Goth drow lives,” Bhandi said with a chuckle. “Unbelievable.”
“I didn’t even try, honestly. Haven’t seen you guys in a while. What’s up?”
Tate rubbed his bald purple head covered in dark, swirling tattoos. “Just trying to stay outta the shitstorm.” He glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward and lowered his